


slowly

by Lilibet



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet/pseuds/Lilibet
Summary: Slowly, they give in.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 54





	slowly

Obi-Wan wakes slowly, warm and liquid like syrup, easing into a languid stretch. The sheets slip down his hips, lead into a tangled mess between his legs. His head is clouded, fuzzy, a steady ache thumping in his temples.

There’s a muffled sound behind him, a warmth that only comes from a body, hard and solid against his back. He can almost see the sun flooding the room, trying to creep under his eyelids, and he tells himself he keeps them shut to avoid the light stinging his eyes, but he knows he’s running away from the strong arm he can feel draped across his waist.

Slowly, he gives in, sees the long fingers splayed across his belly through the light stabbing his retinas, follows the arm back to its owner even as fear grips him. It can’t be, it can’t have happened, and if it has happened then he doesn’t want to face the reality of it being fuelled by alcohol and the high of a successful mission rather than desire.

His memories are clouded, veiled, but he thinks he can remember revelry and joy, fingers grasping his to pull him into a dance, an enthusiastic toast to two Jedi and a new peace. He might also remember twisting his fingers into silver-streaked hair, a lopsided smile, and the hard edge of a wall digging into his back as Qui-Gon pressed him against a doorway.

He wants to remember sloppy kisses tasting of the bubbly alcohol he didn’t know the name of, of Qui-Gon’s hands on his body, slipping under his robes, lips pressing slow, wet kisses against his neck.

Shifting, he turns to find Qui-Gon watching him, already awake, fingers fiddling with the sheet resting over Obi-Wan’s hip, covering what little dignity he has left. Silence fills the small space, all sharp edges as it grows between them, and Obi-Wan closes his eyes.

“Obi-Wan.”

Words have abandoned him. He can’t face what he has, has had, what he’s about to lose. He stays there, still, unable to breathe.

Qui-Gon’s lips on his send him reeling. They’re warm and dry, soft against his own and Obi-Wan flails for something, anything, as he falters in shock, gasping, letting Qui-Gon pull him closer over the bed.

“Obi-Wan.”

The words are the same, but that’s not what makes him open his eyes this time. They’re said desperately, although one would not know unless they knew Qui-Gon like Obi-Wan does. Deep and aching, reaching into his bones like vines, a desperate longing that calls to its kin in Obi-Wan’s heart. It is that which makes him open his eyes. Not the warm, naked flesh pressed against his own, the hand slipping lower under the sheets to grip the curve of his leg.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon murmurs, “I have wanted you for so long, I thought— I hoped—,” a shaky breath, too close. “I’m sorry.”

“You—" Obi-Wan breathes in sharply. “But I thought–“

“I took advantage,” Qui-Gon interrupts, “You, _we_ , were drunk. I shouldn’t have,” His eyes slip closed.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, “you should have.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes snap open. “What?”

“I wanted...,” Obi-Wan pauses, licks his lips. “But I didn’t think you...”

“ _Oh_ ,” Qui-Gon breathes out.

Qui-Gon kisses him again, a slow slide of lips and press of tongue, and Obi-Wan kisses back.  
  
  



End file.
